


Team Nice Dynamite’s Macrowave Adventure

by cherryrosetart



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Crazy, Gen, Team Nice Dynamite, based on rt short, stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-20
Updated: 2014-08-20
Packaged: 2018-02-13 23:16:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2168994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryrosetart/pseuds/cherryrosetart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael and Gavin find and use the Macrowave Time Machine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Team Nice Dynamite’s Macrowave Adventure

**Author's Note:**

> Stupid ficlet based off of the RT Short Macrowave Time Machine

Michael and Gavin had heard about Chris’ little adventure to WWII Germany, and decided they wanted to try it out. One night when the office was empty, they found the macrowave completely unattended. The boys snuck into the kitchen and grabbed it, sneaking it out of the office, and taking it back to Michael’s place.

“Dude, this is gonna be so cool,” Michael announced, grabbing a spoon from his drawer, and placing it into the macrowave.

“Where should we go first? I mean, when should we go first?” Gavin asked, bouncing with excitement.

Lindsay walked in from the bedroom and saw the two idiots, and knew something was up based on their behavior. “What the fuck are you two up to?”

Michael, snickering turned to see his wife. “We’re gonna go back in time. We heard Chris did it, and we wanna try it.”

“You two are such idiots.” Lindsay shook her head, and took a seat on the couch to watch some TV.

“Come on, Michael, let’s do this,” Gavin exclaimed, opening the macrowave door and checking on the spoon inside. “Okay, all we have to do is enter a year and we’re there. What year do we want?”

“How about 1969? We could go to Woodstock,” Michael declared, about to punch the numbers into the machine.

“No, let’s go somewhere interesting.”

“What’s not interesting about Woodstock? It’s fucking awesome rock n roll music, and some of the fucking greats, man.” Again he reached to press in the numbers but Gavin’s hand stopped him. “Dude!”

“Come on, Michael, I wanna go somewhere else,” Gavin confessed.

“Fine. Where do _you_ wanna go?” Michael folded his arms across his chest and huffed.

Lindsay looked over at Team Nice Dynamite, and threw a pillow at Michael. “Grow up. Go somewhere you _both_ wanna go.”

Michael stuck his tongue out at his wife, then threw the pillow back at her. “Shut up. We didn’t ask for your opinion.”

“How about 1953? We could see the bloody Queen’s coronation,” Gavin proposed, bringing his fingers to enter the year into the time contraption.

Michael seized his mate’s hand, and the boys started fighting over which year they wanted. 

Lindsay, very annoyed at this point by the two dumbfucks, turned up the volume on the TV. “Shut the fuck up, you guys. I’m trying to watch this documentary about Christopher Columbus. Don’t make me throw another pillow at you.” She gave the boys a death glare, gesturing with her two fingers that she’s got her ‘eyes on them.’

The guys weren’t paying any attention to Lindsay and continued to fight. “How about,” Michael started as Gavin kept pushing his away. “We go see the moon landing? It’s the same year.” Michael shoved Gavin onto the floor and almost got all the numbers pressed. “That’d be fucking awesome.” 

Gavin jumped up off the floor and pushed Michael away and deleted the numbers and managed to put his numbers in. But before he could hit start, Michael tackled him, and the boys were tumbling around on the floor. “Queen’s coronation,” Gavin mumbled as they rolled around on the tiled floor.

“Moon landing!”

“Queen’s coronation!”

“Moon landing!” 

“Queen’s coronation!”

Lindsay turned the volume of the TV all the way up, drowning out the fighting boys. At that moment, both of their hands reached up and random numbers got pressed, and one of their hands slipped and hit the start button. Blue lights swirled around them as they continued to fight like children, and suddenly they disappeared. Lindsay turned to tell them to knock their shit off, but noticed they were gone. She turned the volume down and smiled. “That’s better.”

About five minutes after they disappeared, they reappeared, and both vomited into the kitchen sink. “Ah man, Linds, you would not believe what the fuck just happened. We were…” Michael glanced around his place and noticed there was a lot more Native artwork and turquoise on the walls. The couch had leather hides hanging off the back, and there was a pelt from some animal hanging over the TV. Lindsay looked decked out in traditional Native garb, and her hair was black. “Uh, I think we fucked something up,” Michael theorized.

“I told you not to tell Columbus which way to go. You actually sent him to India, and no one discovered America,” Gavin scolded.

“Shit. We gotta fix this now. What buttons did we push?” Michael hollered.

“I don’t know, but we better figure it out soon,” Gavin stated. “Uh, what year did Columbus discover America again?”

“Um…” Michael closed his eyes and tried to remember the little ditty he was taught in school. “Columbus sailed the ocean blue in…” he muttered under his breath. “14 hundred and 92!” He shouted. “We need to go to 1492!” Gavin pressed the buttons and they were off again. 

Another five minutes passed and the boys reappeared again in the kitchen, expelling the contents of their stomach into the sink. They looked a bit tore up. “Did it work?” Michael asked, then looked around. Everything _seemed_ in order, but noticed that Lindsay wasn’t in the room anymore, and it was dark. “Something’s not right.”

They heard some sort of explosion, and they both ran to the window. Outside they saw the entire neighborhood in ruin. Cars blown up, and stripped, tires stolen, leaving only the husk of the car. Gun fire could be heard from all over the area, and they quickly pulled back the curtain.

“What the fuck did we do wrong this time?” Michael bellowed.

“It must’ve been when you told him to turn around and go back. He must’ve thought he could take over, and did. Now it’s like bloody world war three out there!”

“Goddammit!! We’ve gotta go back.” Michael pressed the time period in again, and they were off. Once again they arrived back in five minutes time, but this time they missed the sink completely. 

“I’m really not liking this, Michael,” Gavin confessed, wiping his mouth. 

“Maybe we fixed everything this time,” Michael hoped, and saw Lindsay sitting on the couch. “Linds?”

“What are you two doing here?” Lindsay got off the couch and walked over to the two boys. “Why are you in my apartment?”

Michael looked genuinely confused. “What do you mean your apartment? This is our apartment.”

“ _Our_ apartment? Michael, there is no ‘ours,’ unless you count myself and Meg.”

Michael and Gavin glanced around the apartment and noticed pictures of Lindsay and Meg together, and one of them kissing. _Oh fuck!_ “When did you and Meg… What?”

Just then Meg walked in the front door and yelped. “What’re they doing here?”

“I dunno, but I told them they need to leave,” Lindsay answered, walking over and kissing her wife.

“Don’t you two have your own apartment to go home to, you freaks?” Meg growled. 

“What did you do, Michael?” Gavin cried.

“I didn’t do anything!” Michael snapped, staring down at the women, worried what they might do to them.

“You had to have said something, or did something. What did you say to the crew?”

“Why is it always my fault? Maybe you said something, or did something.” Michael accused. “What about those two dudes we walked in on; did you say something to them?”

Panic filled the boys as the ladies looked like they were about to attack two intruders. “I… I just told them they shouldn’t be ashamed of who they are, and be open about their relationship.”

“Well apparently there were more guys on the ship that felt the same way, otherwise how would this happen?” Michael didn’t wait for an answer and punched the numbers into the stupid macrowave and they disappeared once more.

Looking like they went to hell and back, the boys returned, hitting the sink once again. Michael looked around and noticed all his usual stuff, pictures of him and Lindsay on the walls and tables, and Lindsay sitting on the couch watching her documentary.

“Did we do it this time?” Gavin wondered, looking back and forth at Michael and the apartment.

“I think so. Linds?” 

Lindsay turned to face them, glaring at them once again. “I told you guys to shut up, I’m trying to watch this doc. Could you guys go play in the bedroom or something?” She turned up the TV, and they heard the tale of how Columbus discovered America, and how north and south America had become one giant America.

“Fuck it! Close enough,” Michael breathed. He removed the spoon from inside the fucking piece of shit, threw the spoon into the trash, and the boys took the macrowave back to the office. “We are never playing with that fucking thing again!” Michael proclaimed, and put it back where they found it.

“No bloody way,” Gavin agreed, and then placed a note on the machine. TOUCH AT YOUR OWN RISK!

**Author's Note:**

> After seeing the word count, I tried to match the word count with the year they went to, but was about 11 words off. Ha!


End file.
